


All Good Things

by PastelWonder



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-15
Updated: 2016-01-15
Packaged: 2018-05-14 02:53:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5727022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelWonder/pseuds/PastelWonder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They say all good things must come to an end.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Good Things

_Miss Summers is here. She's waiting in your office._

 

His secretary's words circle around-and-around inside his head as he marches down the hallway. The voices of watchers and their slayers training in packed classrooms echo dully through the facility, striking his already-raw nerves like a tuning fork.

 

He clenches and unclenches his fists as he rounds the last corner before his office. His secretary rises half-way from her seat, an apologetic look on her face. He makes a motion for her to sit with a nod and a tight smile. He raps lightly, just below his brass nameplate.

 

There's a faint, "Yeah" from the other side, and he can't help rolling his eyes before slipping through the door.

 

It's difficult to see her clearly; her back is to him, and the only light in the office is from the desk lamp - the one he leaves on when he's out.  She's examining the books on the shelves behind his desk, running her fingertips down their spines. She pauses over one, and he can hear her huff a soft laugh. She pulls it from the shelf, and he can tell by the weight of it and it's binding what it is.

 

"Buffy-" he reaches for the light switch, but she turns quickly, shaking her head.

 

"Don't," she asks softly, then smiles self-consciously and looks down. "The light bothers my eyes."

 

Giles blinks, then slips his hands into his pockets and shrugs. He eyes the book she's pressed against her chest, and it is indeed _Vampyr._

 

"Is everything alright?" he asks, because she seems somehow smaller than usual, and because he doesn’t know what else to say.

 

"You built this place?" She rounds the desk slowly, deliberately, and Giles is suddenly distracted by the way the shadows strike her face. She is appallingly thin.

 

"Yes," he answers carefully as she rests against the front of his desk, the book balanced on her knees with the cover held out to him. "Well-" He rubs a hand through his hair, "I mean… I commissioned it."

 

"It's-" She searches the room, like the word she's looking for is pasted somewhere, "large-ish."

 

"I suppose it is." He squares his shoulders back, watching her grip on the book tighten, and he knows this is just as awkward for her as it is for him. "Is there something I can-"

 

"Is Faith here?" Buffy interrupts, her voice higher-pitched than it was before. She searches the room again, looking for Faith.

 

"No." Giles ducks his head, points his feet away from her. Guilt is welling up in his gut, and he's not quite sure it's justified. But then, when has Buffy ever needed justification?

 

"Well, I thought, since you two are buds now…" she explains casually, a sardonic smile on her face.

 

The guilt twists and knots into anger. "Why are you here, Buffy?"

 

The smile falls away from her face, and Giles feels a perverse sense of pleasure, until her lips press into a thin line and she shoots back, "Oh, I thought this is where the slayer squad comes for pep talks and info sessions. I'm here for the twofer."

 

"Yes, well, I would rather think you were beyond that sort of elementary instruction."

 

She stands abruptly, dropping the book loudly onto the desk. "Where is Faith?" she insists through clenched teeth.

 

"I haven't the faintest idea, Buffy!" he shouts. "Gallivanting off to brutally murder more slayers, I suspect." He rubs his forehead, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on.

 

"I want to see her," Buffy points to the floor. "Now."

 

"Just who do you think you are?" he asks quietly, taking a step towards her. How this spiraled downward so fast he has no idea.

 

"There's something wrong," she growls back. He sees something in her eyes - something he can't quite make out in the light.

 

"Wrong?"

 

"With me," her voice is softer, her eyes glisten in the lamplight, and he realizes what it is.

 

Fear.

 

"What's the matter?"

 

She takes the hem of her shirt, and he swallows, not sure where this is going. It's as if everything is in slow motion as she lifts her shirt to reveal a web of faint white scars criss-crossing her belly.

 

He doesn’t remember the steps he took or his legs buckling beneath him, only he's sinking to his knees before her, hand stretching wide over her skin. It's as if no time has passed, the familiarity he shows her, and soon he's pressing and pinching and smoothing the skin.

 

"Buffy," he meets her eyes, and he knows there is as much fear reflected in his own now, or maybe even more. "You've scarred."

**Author's Note:**

> Whaaat?! Pastel wrote a het pairing that it *not* BBW? 
> 
> Listen, do you hear that sound? That's the sound of hell... freezing over.
> 
> The truth is, I love love LOVE this pair. *shrugs* I can't help myself.
> 
> Your comments and kudos are always appreciated!


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